This piece is part of my 2016–2026 archive migration. Some original formatting, content, and external links may be missing, changed, or not be optimized.
I pray
That they
Don’t lose themselves
To the coin
That preys upon them night and day
As I sit on my grave
I think
About all the things
That didn’t mean a thing
I lost myself
To a cycle of insanity
Only to remember it was all vanity
But it was too late
As I sit on my grave
I reflect
On all the people I invested in
That never reciprocated positive energy
But instead tried to fill me with their toxicity
And I let them
Because I was addicted to a life of monstrosity
As I sit on my grave
I remember all of my mistakes
And then I realize
It was all a lesson
Something I can appreciate before it’s too late
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